


Threshold

by carriecmoney



Series: Petr(ichor) [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Gen, M/M, REALLY not a soulmates au, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 11:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16136630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carriecmoney/pseuds/carriecmoney
Summary: Suga jerked to a hard stop, making Daichi slam on the brakes with a curse, everything in the van slipping a few feet forward. Daichi scowled at their car, but he didn’t have time to get worked up before their door flew open and Suga jumped out, stomping towards the house and screaming, “What the hell?Whatthehell?"“What the hell?” Ash muttered beside Daichi, brow furrows deepening as he struggled out of his seatbelt and out of the van. One of the silhouettes vaulted over the porch railing, took a few steps towards Suga – herecognizedthat stance –Daichi fumbled to cut off the engine, forgetting about the keys as he fell out onto the gravel and raced towards Suga and the man they were punching, the rest of the pack a few steps behind. The punching bag laughed, deep and familiar. Daichi didn’t stop his advance until he scooped them up full-body, a summer storm crackling over him as Daichi shoved his face in a shirt collar and breathed in.Hajime.When Karasuno meets Seijoh. Takes place a few months after Petrichor/Ichor.





	Threshold

**Author's Note:**

> {A/N: So helping [Shannon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaples/pseuds/Shaples) update [Second Skin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5119838) brought back my undying affection for this setting and the things we still need to tell in here. There might be more if I can continue to motivate my and Shannon's ass to do it. Oh yeah, and Ash is Asahi.}

“Okay, looks like we need to get off on exit nineteen, then head east-”

“Ash, left or right.”

“Right, sorry, uh, left.”

Daichi sighed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as they puttered past mile marker twenty-eight. His old girl was sturdy and reliable, but she didn’t really like going over sixty-five unless she needed to. What Suga called a three hour drive was over four for him, but that suited him just fine. He could use the time to think about where the _hell_ they were going.

Ash folded up the map so their current part of the route was on top and stretched out in the passenger seat, grunting through a yawn. He flopped his head to look over at Daichi, golden brown bangs flopping a second after. “So. Figured out what you’re gonna say yet?”

Daichi glared at him. “Go away.” Ash chuckled, low enough not to disturb the two others that were currently snoring in the back of the van. Daichi frowned at the road. “This is going to be the weirdest thing we’ve done in a while,” he muttered.

“Really? _Really?_ You want me to list off all the shit’s that’s happened the last few months?” Ash ticked off on his fingers as he ranted, “Moved to Louisiana, picked up a street vampire, kind of bought a bar, _bonded_ with the street vampire – which is still weird – had to get that damn liquor license-”

Daichi groaned. “Still wish I’d let Toby eat that health inspector.” Ash huffed. “Still,” Daichi repeated, staring into the deep orangey-blue of the dusk horizon, “this might take the cake.”

Ash hummed, rubbing his beard as he joined Daichi in contemplation of the clouds. The radio was too low to hear the words of the song (or if it was a song at all), a background buzz under the engine grinds and concrete bumps. Daichi flipped the rear view mirror down to check on their sleeping companions, the ‘street vampire’ fallen over onto Sunshine’s… everything, only puffs of orange hair shining in the shadows. Transporting a vampire across the state in the middle of a sunny day, even in the back of a windowless van, was probably the stupidest part of this whole endeavor, but they were almost at the turnoff to Baton Rouge and it was too late to worry about that now. Not that he wouldn’t.

Daichi had known that something was different in the supernatural structure of this state like how he had known tornadoes were scary as a kid – an accepted fact, but only a concept until the first time he saw one touch the ground. Their figurative wall cloud had come in the form of some off-brand stripper cop who walked into the bar, announced he was from the Grenda-something like that meant anything to Daichi, and asked to see the Deacon of Shreveport. Later, Daichi learned that was supposed to mean Toby, but at the time he just told the guy that they didn’t have any preachers as customers and if he wasn’t going to buy anything or arrest someone to buzz off. He didn’t catch the whiff of wolf until the bar door swung shut. The weird old guy who always seemed to be around when weird things happened just laughed and asked for another drink before going on a rambling story about the Vatican and the Swiss soldiers who guarded it – the Gendarmerie.

That was about the time that the tornado touched earth and Daichi got slapped in the face with the shitstorm that he and his pack had lucked themselves into.

“Exit,” Ash said in the road silence. Daichi blinked out of his highway hypnosis and flipped his blinker, getting into the off ramp lane for exit nineteen.

“Left, right?”

“Yeah, east.”

“You’re the worst,” Daichi said, following the arrows to turn left on the two-lane highway. Ash just rolled his eyes and unfolded a leaf of the map along the eastern path. “How long am I on this?” Daichi asked.

“A little while.” Ash traced the road with his finger. “We’re going until a fork about… fifteen miles down and bearing south.”

“Sounds good.” The other car in their two-vehicle caravan was too far away for Daichi to tell the exact distance until Ryuu’s chaparral could warm his back again. Instead of pulling on the string, he fumbled in the old milk crate between the seats for the hand radio, pressing down the talk button to say, “Hey y’all, we just got off the highway. Where y’all at?”

He held it out at arm’s length to brace for the incoming wave of noise, too much and too loud to distinguish any single sound. It cut off on its own with a squawk. Daichi and Ash looked at each other for the five seconds it took to come back, background volume lowered enough for a voice to scream, “ _Yeah, man, we’re just a few miles from the exit! We-_ ” Cut. They waited, but after a few more blasts of nonsense, the other car stopped trying. Daichi heaved a sigh and dropped the radio back in the crate. Suga couldn’t stand road trips in the van, and Noya and Ryuu were too loud not to wake Sunshine up, so they had left once Suga’s pie had finished baking sometime after Daichi and Ash. Suga drove like the interstate was their own Talladega and was always bound to catch up. Daichi was kind of surprised they hadn’t already – they must have had trouble finding the nice pie carrier.

He and his old girl rumbled down the two-lane highway, Ash sliding down in his seat to prop his knees on the dash, map on his lap. “Don’t fall asleep on me,” Daichi warned.

“Wasn’t gonna,” Ash lied. Daichi shook his head. Hopefully Suga would slow down to just reckless driving speeds once they had to deal with the twists and turns of the not-quite backroads through the small farms and sugar fields… but not likely. Oh well. As long as they arrived at about the same time, it would be… fine. Hopefully.

After the creepy old guy’s dropped hints about Swiss guard and gathering allies before Halloween, Daichi had sat down with Suga and Ash to draft a game plan. Toby told them that there was some event in New Orleans on Halloween that he might be expected to show up for, but they had done a good job of pretending they could avoid that. Now they knew they couldn’t, but they had no idea where it even _was_ in New Orleans, much less what they were supposed to do when they found it. As much as Daichi hated to admit it, they needed help, and they really only had one lead.

Daichi had never met the vampire that had turned Toby – or, honestly, spent all that much time thinking about him. He knew his name was Oikawa from the few details Toby had let spill out, and that he was based in Baton Rouge, but Daichi had been too busy putting out the daily fires of their current phase of life to contemplate a distant stranger. Still, this Oikawa and his people were the only ones that they were able to talk to about this whole nightmare.

Daichi had had only two very stilted conversations over the phone with the Baton Rouge pack leader. The first was right after they had picked up Toby, the second two days ago when he redialed the Yellow Pages cutout for some clinic in Baton Rouge that the old adviser bar rat had left behind on his first visit to the bar. The first one confirmed that the wolf who Toby was so agitated about losing was in their care and that there was a single duffel’s worth of someone else’s stuff in the corner of the bar’s basement whenever one of them made their way up to Shreveport. They never called back to arrange the exchange, but some shifter that scared the hell out of Sunshine showed up a few months later and collected it. The second one, Daichi called to ask what they knew about the Gendarmerie and got an invitation for the whole pack to come down for dinner at the next new moon instead.

Daichi had wanted to get the pack all sorted before they either got involved in the local politics or got out of the state before anyone noticed, but now the choice was made for him. The Baton Rouge pack was waiting somewhere on this side of the city, along with that Oikawa vampire and some terrifying shifter they knew absolutely nothing about.

It would be fine. Suga was bringing a pie, after all.

A prickle of scrubbrush was Daichi’s only warning before an engine roared up behind them loud enough to shock Ash awake. It didn’t even slow down as they zoomed past Daichi’s van in the oncoming lane, Noya’s head out the back window, tongue lolling in the wind as Suga’s little Rebel screamed by, weaving back into the right lane tight in front of Daichi’s grill. Daichi scowled and grabbed for the radio, yelling into it, “Sugar, I swear to Christ if you get there before we do I’ll pour sugar in your gas tank!”

“ _Chill out, girlfriend, I’ll wait at the door!_ ” Suga’s voice crackled back at him, two people’s wild laughter almost drowning it out. Daichi growled and threw the radio back in the crate hard enough to bounce, glaring at the tail lights shrinking in the twilight as Ash twisted in his seat to calm down a startled-awake Sunshine. _Great first impression, y’all_.

* * *

Despite it all, Suga kept true to their word and waited at the gate, a useless thing at the turnoff from the road that wasn’t hooked up to a fence, just some brick stands stretched across brown gravel. It stood open now, Suga’s sunset-colored coupe idling just out of range. Suga leant out of their window to call back at them, “You ready for this, tiger?”

“Just drive!” Daichi yelled back, waving his arm out the window. Suga flicked a salute and hauled themselves back in the car, shifting into gear and rumbling into the dark between the gnarled live oaks and manicured lawn. Northern Louisiana was too far inland to look like the postcard version of the state, so the Spanish moss and ironwork was just alien enough to set Daichi’s teeth on edge. If Oikawa and his pack were trying to make an impression, it was working.

“ _Wow!_ ” Sunshine shoved himself forward between Daichi and Ash to watch the scenery drift by, big hazel eyes bright in the red of Suga’s tail lights. “This place is so _cool!_ ”

“Sit your ass back down, idiot,” Toby groaned in Japanese, still struggling to wake up – sunset had only been about twenty minutes ago, and he had (apparently) never been a morning person. Daichi still wasn’t used to the cold-water sunset jolt that came along with this new vampire bond thing, but at least Toby had gotten himself controlled enough that only Sunshine looked like a dog attacked him every night – like right now, shit. Daichi reached up and wiped away a red trickle from the new bite on Sunshine’s shoulder, mountaintop sun blinding him for a moment. Sunshine barely shivered at Daichi’s touch, instead sticking his tongue out at Toby, who was still on the old couch in the back of the van. Daichi wiped the blood off on his seat (it had had worse) and focused on not running into a tree as Ash played referee between a bouncy, hyped-up Sunshine and an almost-awake Toby.

The driveway was only a mile or so long, ending in a teardrop loop in front of an old white plantation house with Charleston green shutters and a creaky wood porch. The whole property smelled like old dog and swamp salt through the open window, like they had aired out the mothballs just for this. If that was true, it was kind of sweet, like the silhouettes of the welcome party waiting on the porch, backlit by the lights from inside the house-

Suga jerked to a hard stop, making Daichi slam on the brakes with a curse, everything in the van slipping a few feet forward. Daichi scowled at their car, but he didn’t have time to get worked up before their door flew open and Suga jumped out, stomping towards the house and screaming, “What the hell? _What_ the _hell?_ ”

“What the hell?” Ash muttered beside Daichi, brow furrows deepening as he struggled out of his seatbelt and out of the van. One of the silhouettes vaulted over the porch railing, took a few steps towards Suga – he _recognized_ that stance –

Daichi fumbled to cut off the engine, forgetting about the keys as he fell out onto the gravel and raced towards Suga and the man they were punching, the rest of the pack a few steps behind. The punching bag laughed, deep and familiar. Daichi didn’t stop his advance until he scooped them up full-body, a summer storm crackling over him as Daichi shoved his face in a shirt collar and breathed in. _Hajime_.

The old woods fluttered back at him as Hajime held on tight, laughing as the others slapped his back and ruffled his hair. Everyone was yelling over each other about where he had gone and what he was doing here, but Daichi just needed a moment to roll in the leaves. Fingers gripped the back of his neck, keeping him there even as their owner tried to answer everyone’s questions at once, the sun bursting through the canopy to line everything in gold.

Rainbow water shot up from the forest floor in geysers, dousing the leaf litter in burning sulfur that shoved Daichi back to reality and shut Hajime up mid-sentence.  He twisted in Daichi’s arms to look back at the porch, guilt shuddering the branches. “Oh. Right.” He tugged on what was left of Daichi’s hair. Daichi put him back on his feet, leaving a hand on the small of his back as Hajime turned to face their audience.

Most of the porch crowd smelled like wolf, but the tall skinny brunet tapping his foot and grinding his teeth at the top of the porch steps did _not_. He was also decidedly _not_ looking at any of Daichi’s pack, instead glaring Hajime down as he drummed his fingers on his crossed arms. “Care to explain yourself?” he said in a tight voice, thrumming in the trees in a multicolor tenor. Daichi felt Hajime’s growl rumble in his chest, which historically had not ended well for its target. The pack on the porch was still, time-frozen, and Daichi’s pack was looking to _him_ , hanging back from the sudden tension.

So Daichi stepped forward, snapping the not-wolf’s attention to him with hot-water pressure. Daichi dug in his heels and met him head-on, a desert hill supporting his back. “So sorry about that,” he said with his best smile. “Hajime and us go back, is all.” The pressure kept up its fire hose power, but Daichi just smiled. “You must be Oikawa. Thank you for having us.”

Oikawa’s nose flared, eyes flashing red. Smoke swirled through Daichi’s head, glints of skin and gold mirrored through it, but Daichi pushed it away with the months of practice shaking off Toby’s shaky adrenaline punches. Oikawa jerked his chin up. “Hmph.”

“Tooru.” Hajime put his hand on Daichi’s shoulder, warmth at his side. “You promised.”

Tooru – Oikawa – glared at Hajime a moment longer, then spun on his heel and marched inside, slamming the screen door behind him.

Ryuu huffed, coming up on Daichi’s other side to loop their arms together and couch Daichi in the hills. “What’s got his gravy?”

“Do you want the whole list?” the voice from the phone asked. Daichi looked up at a lanky guy with dark curls leaning against the porch railing, considering them from under hooded eyes. “I thought you didn’t have any friends in this state, Hajime,” he drawled, tracing the groove of the painted wood with his thumb without breaking Daichi’s eye contact. Hajime shrugged as the rest of both packs broke free of their stasis, creeping closer to sniff each other out.

“I didn’t think I did, either.” He glanced at Daichi. “There’s a story?”

Daichi grinned back at him, ruffling his hair until Hajime smiled again. “Bet it’s not as interesting as _yours_ , fuzzball.” Someone on the porch choked, but Daichi didn’t look away from the dimple on Hajime’s left cheek, a stab of nostalgia he didn’t know he was harboring. His other arm was still in Ryuu’s custody, but he squeezed Hajime’s neck as tight as he could with his left, holding him close. “God, I missed you,” he whispered to the trees.

“Yeah.” Hajime cleared his scratchy throat and pulled away, looking to the rest of Daichi’s pack. “It’s nice to see y’all, but I do have one question before we head inside.” Suga tilted their head, Sunshine and Toby totally not hiding behind Ash’s bulk while Noya was held back by it. In his most serious tone, Hajime asked, “What kind of pie did you bring?”

Suga laughed, gray hair dancing in the breeze, and everyone else laughed along, tension from the earlier altercation bleeding away as Hajime left Daichi’s range to moan over Suga’s travelling cake pan. Curls on the porch directed them inside with a jerk of his head, the other pack torn between filtering in and staring at the spectacle. Was Hajime just visiting like usual, or…

Hajime turned on Daichi, radiating sunlight to match Sunshine. “Well, don’t be a stranger! C’mon in, dinner’s ready – we can catch up over food!” Noya snatched Ryuu from Daichi’s side and bounded up the stairs with him in tow, almost knocking over one of the other pack members before just grabbing him and sucking him into the whirlwind, too. Hajime laughed, slinging an arm around Daichi’s shoulders as they watched the mingling. “Glad to see some people never change,” he muttered. Daichi chuckled, returning the hold with an arm around his waist.

“Glad to see some do.” Hajime tilted his head at him. Daichi smiled. “ _You_ , fuzzball. You’re… settled.” He squeezed. “Is this… Are they…”

Blackberry flowers bloomed on the forest floor, stars on the ground. “Yeah,” he said, voice sandpaper in the twilight. “And… Tooru – Oikawa, he’s…” He swallowed. “He’s my mate,” he whispered, starflowers sparkling. Daichi blinked. _That_ guy?

“Well I’ll be damned.” He shook Hajime a little, swallowing back all his cold logical shock. “Took you long enough!” Hajime grinned, and Daichi sighed, leaning into him. “Gotta say, though, he seems like… a handful.”

Hajime snorted – laughed, big and loud, head thrown back, pond water threatening to well over. “Yeah – yeah, you could say that.” He squeezed Daichi’s shoulders. “C’mon, I want some of Suga’s pie, I missed that shit more than you.”

“Oh, I see how it is, huh?” Hajime’s eyes crinkled – whipped to the door. Most everyone was inside now, but there was a four person standoff at the entrance, Toby blinking too much at a tall kid with spiky hair, who was glaring at Toby from behind his growling defender, Sunshine clinging to the back of Toby’s shirt and mouthing off at the other two. “Uh-oh.”

Hajime grumbled. “Damn. I was hoping Tooru would stick around to deal with this.” He frowned. “Hey. I recognize that ginger.”

Daichi bit on a smile. “Don’t tell me. You’re the one who came by to pick up the stuff a while back.”

Hajime frowned – gasped. “Oh my God.” He spun on Daichi, grabbing his arms to look at him with his gold-rimmed eyes. “Where you _there?_ ”

Daichi laughed, awkwardly patting what he could reach. “No, no, Suga and Ash and me got called away to help an old packmate get out of trouble.” He pursed his lips. “Ryuu and Noya were there, though…”

Hajime groaned and knocked his forehead into Daichi’s shoulder. He bounced back up and shook it off as he finally let Daichi go to head towards the simmering fight. Daichi ran his hands over his goosebumped forearms – touching Hajime always felt sharp, carbonated, like being dunked in a vat of mineral water. It didn’t _hurt_ , but it tingled like all hell, and it had been years since he felt it. He was out of practice.

“There a reason y’all are fighting at the door?” Hajime asked, pausing a step down from the porch proper. Daichi wandered closer as Sunshine and the defender both snapped incomplete explanations, color high and scent peaking. Hajime let them go on for a moment, then held up a hand. Sunshine choked on the hard stop, the other one’s face screwing up tight. “Akira.” A huff. “Not now.”

“But-!”

Hajime shook his head, hands in his jeans pockets. “Nope. We’re eating first.” He walked right between Akira and Toby, grabbing an arm from each of his people as he passed to haul them inside, them going along like kids dragged off the playground. Daichi raised an eyebrow – _that_ was new.

Sunshine turned big eyes on Daichi and hissed, “ _That was him! That was the scary guy!_ ”

Daichi chuckled, hopping up the steps to the porch. “Yeah, I know. He’s not that bad once you get used to him.” Sunshine’s face twisted up, but before he could respond, Daichi flapped a hand. “Well, g’on, get.”

Toby glared at the hall carpet just past the threshold, screen door in his hand. “I… can’t,” he growled through grit teeth. “It won’t let me.”

Daichi blinked. “What?”

“Kageyama, you coming?” Hajime called back through the house. Toby jumped, shoulders hitching up. Hajime leant around a door at the end of the hall straight from the door, frowning at them. “There a problem?”

“ _Oh, for the love of – he has to be_ invited _,_ ” a new voice called form further in, almost indistinct against the kitchen chatter. “ _By the_ owner.”

Hajime scowled. “ _Tooru!_ ” he yelled, looking up at the upper floors. “You promised!”

“ _I did no such thing!_ ” a shrieking caw echoed through the old wood. Hajime growled and stomped up the stairs, bickering with the whiny vampire the whole way. Daichi laid a hand on Toby’s shoulder, making him jump again. Daichi smiled through the exhaustion he could feel creeping in.

“It’ll be okay, Toby,” he said to watery blue eyes. He grinned. “Maybe we can come in the back door.”

Toby frowned, then scowled at the carpet, wood of the screen door creaking in his grip. “I _hate_ being a vampire,” he hissed in Japanese.

“ _Fine!_ ” Oikawa’s shrill whine cried from overhead. Feet pounded until he banged against the overhanging railing from the second floor, eyes red and black and fangs out as he spit at Tobio, “You may enter, you little _brat!_ ”

Daichi sighed as Oikawa spun away, gone in an actual blink back to wherever he was hiding to pout. “Come on, kids,” he said, nudging both of them forward. “Let’s get this over with.”

* * *

Someone in Hajime’s new pack could cook (and Daichi knew it wasn’t Hajime), because they had the best smoked chicken Daichi had ever put in his mouth laid out, along with a counter full of all the typical backyard barbeque fixings. Daichi was still working out the names, but he pieced together who fit where from his end of the massive dining room table, chewing and watching. Counting Hajime, the home pack had two heads more than Daichi’s pack. It should have been almost too many for their territory, but they fit together like fingers, slotting into spaces and holding fast. Some were friendlier than others, but Suga had already made fast friends with their resident ginger over his pie, so he knew everything was going to work out in the end. Hajime still hadn’t come down from upstairs, but they hadn’t heard any yelling in a while, so it was most likely a calming thing. Daichi wouldn’t have left his mate alone looking like _that_ , either.

Daichi pushed his third plate away, full at last, and leant back in his chair to stretch. Someone dropped in his lap while his eyes were closed, yucca flowers wafting over him. He smiled and looped his arms around Ryuu’s waist, pressing his face to where his tank top dipped down his back. The nice button-up Daichi had dressed him in at home had gotten lost sometime in the drive, and he had been too… distracted when they arrived to force it back on him. An arm wriggled around to scratch through Daichi’s hair, a dangling beer bottle thumping on his chest. “So. Happy to see Hajime again, huh?”

Daichi hummed, leaning into the touch. “Yeah. Missed his face.”

“Of all the gin joints, right?” Ryuu shifted to sit sideways over Daichi’s lap, slinging his arm around Daichi’s shoulders and cleaning off Daichi’s almost-finished plate with the other. “Shinj’s said he’s their new pack lea’er,” he said through a roll, breadcrumbs flying.

Daichi finally opened his eyes again, blinking away sunspots. “Yeah, maybe on paper.” He looked around, watching small conversations ebb and flow, no real central location beyond the food counter. “It’s not really like him to want that, though.”

“If you say so.” Ryuu’s whole side pressed to Daichi’s front as he combed through Daichi’s thinning hair, kicking his feet. “They’re not really what I expected.”

“Same here. But I don’t really know what I expected, either.”

“We like the intrigue.” Curls from the porch spun out an empty folding chair to place it next to Daichi, straddling it backwards and holding out a hand with the same steady eyes. “We haven’t officially met yet. I’m Issei.”

Daichi smiled. “Daichi. And you probably met my mate, Ryuu.” Ryuu leant out of the way so Daichi could take Issei’s forearm, flaking white bark and burning fog pressed against his skin. Issei raised an eyebrow.

“Well, no wonder you and Hajime get along so well.” Daichi squeezed once before letting go, Ryuu springing back to his previous spot. Issei and Ryuu traded their own handshakes before Issei focused back on Daichi. “I’d been told that he had… problems finding his own people, before.”

Daichi grimaced. “You could say that.” He stretched, Ryuu leaning as necessary to stay balanced. “We’ve known each other longer than I care to admit,” he said, “and he’d given up on finding a permanent place long before then. We help when we can, but our pack’s shifted around a lot through the years, and he never stuck around long enough to figure it out.”

“Which is _stupid_ ,” Ryuu swore, teeth bared. “He ain’t _that_ bad, he’s just got that complex.” He huffed. “Love that idiot, but he’s an _idiot_.”

Issei chuckled, folding his arms on the back of the chair and resting his chin on them. “He _can_ be rather dramatic.” His mouth twitched. “He and Oikawa really were made for each other.”

“Wait, back up.” Ryuu pointed at Issei with his beer bottle. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Issei shrugged one shoulder. “Hajime says they’re mates, and Oikawa doesn’t fight it. They’ve got all the symptoms.” He shrugged again at Ryuu’s look. “Don’t ask me to explain it, I’m only a fake doctor.”

Ryuu swung to pin his bug eyes on Daichi, who leant back and held up his hands. “Hey, I’m not _that_ kind of doctor.” At Issei’s eyebrow raise, he explained, “I was a vet, back in Oklahoma.” He rubbed at Ryuu’s sandpaper down buzzcut before he could duck away. “It’s how I stumbled into this whole mess.”

Issei stared at him, eyes wide enough for Daichi to see the full iris for the first time, then buried a helpless laugh in his arms. “ _God_ ,” he groaned into his wrist, shoulders shaking. He rolled his head enough to look at their confused stares with one eye. “You still practicing?”

Daichi blinked. “Well, I’m not licensed in Louisiana yet, but I haven’t exactly forgotten what to do.” Issei rubbed his face on his arms before sitting back, hands gripping the metal of the chair hard enough to dent as he stared up at the ceiling. Daichi glanced at Ryuu, who shrugged. “Is there a problem with that?” Daichi asked.

“No – no, it’s just…” Issei shook it off. “The clinic I run is all volunteer doctors, nurses and physicians and the like – which is great for my human patients, but it’s harder to convince someone that knows canine anatomy to spend a Saturday down there without… explaining too much.” He grinned, crooked teeth flashing. “Care for a field trip in the morning, doctor?”

“You’re already recruiting my friends to your charity case?” Hajime grumbled as he came in the dining room from the parlor door behind Daichi. “At least wait until dessert, geez.”

Daichi twisted to face him, Ryuu slipping away with a kiss to the forehead as he headed towards Noya’s voice. Hajime looked… tired, but no worse for wear after all that time upstairs. “Hey,” Daichi said, softer and raspier than planned. Hajime smiled.

“I don’t make a habit of looking a gift horse in the mouth,” Issei drawled, yanking Daichi’s attention away from hazelnut. The surprise had faded back to his steady state of mild amusement, watching them interact with his Mona Lisa smile. He cat-blinked up at Hajime. “How’s the princess?”

Hajime shrugged, leaning a hip against the table. “To be expected.”

“Pouting like a four year old?” Hajime wagged a hand. Issei huffed. “Typical.”

“Vampires.” Hajime nudged Daichi’s shoulder, just a tap. “How do you keep yours in line?”

Daichi scrubbed at his hair with a loud sigh. “It ain’t easy.” He glanced over at the corner Toby was hiding in, Sunshine pressed to his side as they both yattered away with Noya and Ryuu. The furrow behind his bangs meant that Toby was struggling to get his words out right in both of his languages, scowling at his gesturing hands. “He’s… better than he used to be, though.”

“Hmm.” Issei had his narrowed eyes trained on his own problem children, who were sending an oblivious Toby death glares from across the room. “That’s good.”

Daichi stretched out in his chair, crossing his ankles under the table and lacing his fingers over his stomach, gesturing at them with his chin. “I’m guessing one of them was the wolf the people down in New Orleans tagged on Toby.”

Issei hummed again. “Yeah, that’s Yuu – the taller one with the bad hair.” He twisted a curl around a finger. “He was in pretty bad shape when he got to us. Don’t wanna know how you tamed _that_ beast.”

Daichi winced. “Strength in numbers.” He chewed his tongue. “Speaking of…”

Hajime narrowed his eyes, gold flashing through them. “What are you planning, Sawamura.”

Daichi pointed at himself. “Me?”

“Don’t think I don’t know that tone,” Hajime said, knocking his knee against Daichi’s thigh, cotton clouding over the too-still woods. “You’re plotting something, so spit it out already.”

Daichi laughed. “Plotting’s not really my style, fuzzball. I’m a simple guy.”

Hajime grunted. “You tried to take over Texas, jackass.” Issei snorted hard. Daichi reached out to shove Hajime’s leg, but Hajime shied away with a shift of his stance. Daichi frowned – worry about that later.

“That was _one time_ ,” he shot back like usual. Hajime rolled his eyes, dimple showing. Daichi waved a hand at Issei’s curious lean in. “It’s a long story,” he said. “Maybe some other time.”

Issei covered a little smile with a finger. “Hmm. Sure.”

Hajime pushed off the table with a long groan. “I’m gonna go see what’s left in the kitchen,” he grumbled. He circled through the parlor and hallway instead of cutting through the dining room to the kitchen door across the way – no one but Daichi and Issei had even acknowledged him showing up. Daichi watched him go with a frown.

“Something wrong?” Issei asked, jerking Daichi out of his thoughts. Daichi sighed, scratching his ear.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, watching the smallest member of the other pack catch Hajime sneaking into the kitchen. He jumped up from his seat talking to Ash to unwrap the plate set aside for him, chastising him for letting it get cold. Hajime smiled and thanked him as he stuck it in the toaster oven to warm it, but his left cheek stayed un-dimpled. Daichi rubbed his chin. “He’s… different than he used to be. Can’t decide if that’s good or not.”

“Story of the human condition.” Issei rapped his knuckles on the back of the folding chair. “Okay. Talk to me about your not-plotting.” Daichi grinned.

* * *

Pair by three, the party moved from the dining room to softer parts of the house, sunrooms and parlors becoming nests for new friends to bond in. Toby and his old wolf, Yuu, had one more run-in when Toby tried to – well, not apologize, but acknowledge what had happened between them, giving him a bow and a postcard with a swamp on it (Daichi had _no_ idea how or when he got that). It only confused Yuu, but his protective friend choked and dragged him out of the room before anyone could explain. Toby didn’t understand, but Ryuu pulled him away before he could make it worse by following, and the moment slid by.

Daichi and Issei’s ‘plotting’ gained members as the adults crowded together on the parlor furniture with coffee, Issei and his mate Takahiro explaining how this state and its hierarchy worked as well as the drama around Toby’s turning. It was interesting and important stuff, but Daichi’s eyes kept catching on Hajime, curled up by himself in an armchair. The circles under his eyes were deeper in the lamplight of the parlor, turning a shade darker every time he spaced out in the direction of the stairs. Oikawa hadn’t shown his face since letting Toby into the building, and Daichi was getting really sick of everyone dancing around why.

He drained his coffee and extracted himself from between Suga and Ash. “Bathroom?” he asked their hosts. Issei pointed to the hallway.

“One under the stairs,” he said, quiet enough not to interrupt Takahiro complaining about the ugly cages the New Orleans crowd liked to put contrary wolves in when they got in big enough trouble to draw the Bishop’s attention. Daichi nodded, navigating down the dark hallway to drop his empty mug in the kitchen first.

He surprised the littlest of the home pack wrapping up the leftovers, smiling in apology when he jumped. “Sorry.”

He waved Daichi off, going back to his plastic wrap. “S’fine,” he yawned. Daichi put his mug in the sink, then laid out a dish towel on the counter to start cleaning the dishes already in there, turning on the water and squirting soap on a sponge. “Hey! You’re a guest! You don’t have to do that!”

Daichi chuckled. “Well, I can’t very well leave you to cook _and_ clean all by yourself, that’s just rude.” He put the first rinsed plate face-down on the end of the towel to air dry. “It was all very good, by the by.”

The cook of the night grinned, wedging open the fridge door to wiggle the smoked chicken tray in between the milk and the beer. “It’s a’ight, cleaning’s the only way to get a moment to yourself around here.” He threw his arms out wide, spinning to close the fridge door with the motion. “And I _never_ get to use this kickass kitchen!”

Daichi scrubbed at some dried barbeque sauce. “So this isn’t y’all’s normal base?”

The cook shook his head, crouching down to dig through a cupboard of tupperware. “No sir, we mostly do our own thing. This is the old deacon’s place that he lets us use for entertaining.”

Daichi tilted his head. “Old deacon?”

He nodded as he stood, juggling a few mismatched containers and lids. “Yessir, he got promoted to cardinal when Oikawa showed up. I’ve met him a few times, but y’all’ll have to ask Issei or Taka more about that whole thing, it was before my time.”

Daichi hummed, pushing the running faucet head over to hit the last few plates directly. “I didn’t know they moved people around like that.”

“Oh, sure, yessir. The Bishop’s old as dirt, but he’s not one of those old guys who’s scared of change, as long as it makes his whole thing stronger.” He dumped the last of the coleslaw in a tupperware bowl, scraping the bits out with salad tongs. “He’s also old enough that time don’t mean much to him, which is probably why y’all’ve gotten along under the radar as long as y’all have.” He handed off the empty bowl to Daichi, who pumped some soap and water in it to soak. “If y’all really ran into a gend, though, y’all are about to be in for a rough time.” He grinned. “And I thought _we_ were gonna be up shit creek just introducing Hajime at the office party.”

“Office party?”

He twisted up the Hawaiian rolls package with a snort. “That’s our codename for the Halloween get-together they make us sit through every year. Extremely awkward and incredibly annoying, but something interesting usually happens. Mostly it’s stuff like new pack member introductions or clergy changes, but between y’all and us, it’ll take half of November to get through it all.” He tucked the rolls in the breadbox. “Don’t get me wrong, y’all are a good sort as far as surprises go, and tonight’s been a _way_ better time of it than when Hajime joined us, but hotels down there are ex _pen_ sive.”

Daichi chuckled, wiping down the silverware with another dish towel, laying each utensil out between the line of plates. “I’m sure he made quite the entrance.”

“You kidding? Showed up when the boss was even more at death’s door than usual, saved his life, drove him nuts, shifted out of moon to track down Ken when he was still rabid, bonded with Oikawa – vampire style, they already were our kind by then – and took off the next day.” He shook his head over the last few grilled corncobs, second wind manic energy blowing down to a softer tone. “He’s been coming back around every weekend or so, rumbling in like a hurricane. We all can tell he’s trying, but there’s only so long you can do disaster relief, y’know?” He sighed, staring out the night black window over the counter to the trees of the property. “They may be bonded, but they’re real crap at telling each other what they need.” He stared for another breath, then blinked it away, rubbing at his face and shaved head (Ryuu could never resist making friends with the other intentionally bald ones in the room). “Sorry, that was a dump. I’m just really tired.”

Daichi smiled and balanced the coleslaw bowl on top of the plates. “I understand.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I actually got up to go to the bathroom, so…”

“Oh, yeah, a’course!” He waved Daichi off with a smile. “If you see Ken or Shigeru, tell them to get off their ass and help me out, yeah?”

Daichi nodded like he knew which faces matched those names. “Sure thing.” He left the china clinks of the kitchen behind, but paused in the dark of the hall, staring at his feet as he listened to the parlor voices. Still no Oikawa. Okay.

He ducked into the half-bath below the stairs – he hadn’t been totally lying about needing to pee – then kept to the shadows down the hall, taking the corner tight around the banister and creeping up the stairs. This house was _old_ – probably as old as the state – but the thick rose-patterned carpet muffled the squeak of his steps all the way to the door Daichi had seen Oikawa burst out of earlier. He paused in front of it for one deep exhale, then raised his fist and knocked.

Again.

“ _Go away_ ,” something thin and pitiful wailed from inside. Daichi rolled his eyes.

“Really? You’re doing _this_ now?” He put his hands on his hips. “I drove all the way across the state to meet you, the least I can get is a handshake, yeah?” He waited almost a minute, eyes narrowing more with each second. “I wanted to do this without involving Hajime,” he said, “but if I have to go get him-”

The door swung open, almost hitting Daichi on the nose. Oikawa, not as vicious-looking as earlier but just as pissed, glared sulfur fire at him, red sparking around his eyes. “Who told you that you could call him that?” he hissed, each word almost magic, bearing down on Daichi with brute force. He just tapped his foot and raised an eyebrow. Oikawa was threatening, for sure, but Daichi could also feel the control thrumming through him, holding him together more than his skin. After months taming Toby from the blood-crazed wild animal they found curled up in a highway ditch to something like a normal college athlete, this wasn’t scary. Oikawa’s redwood eyes kept him out of the room, that smoke from earlier creeping back like Issei’s fog, but Daichi stood firm on the carpet.

“It’s his name?” he answered. Oikawa’s nostrils flamed, and Daichi almost laughed. “Wait, is that _really_ what this is about? Oh my God, you really _are_ a pouting four year old.”

Oikawa bared his teeth, fangs dripping. “ _Get out._ ”

“No.” He caught Oikawa’s wrist when he tried to push him back, eyes watering. “We’re going to talk about this, because we’re _adults_ and this is bigger than whatever possessive teenaged lather you’ve worked yourself into.” Oikawa’s hand clenched into a fist by Daichi’s ear, but he didn’t back down. “Let me in.” Oikawa narrowed his eyes to stilettos. “Unless you’d rather talk about this in the hallway?”

Oikawa growled, a rumble deep in his chest that threw Daichi back to spikes and gold. He ripped away from Daichi’s grip and gaze, stomping back in the room and leaving the door open. Daichi shook out his hand and stepped inside, closing the door behind him –

Stared down at the empty hole where the doorknob should be. He blinked a few times at the slight swing of the lockless door, then turned to Oikawa, who was _not_ looking at him as he straightened the mess of hardware on the old desk against the far wall. Daichi bit his mouth closed against a laugh. “You know, if you wanted to keep people out-”

“Shut _up_.” Oikawa huffed, shoulders tense under his blood silk shirt. “I got bored.”

Daichi couldn’t hold back a chuckle at that, crossing the study to lean against the desk. Oikawa collapsed on the rickety wood spinning chair beside him. “Oh, and there was _nothing_ to do in this house except take apart your own doorknob.”

Oikawa glared at the wall just over Daichi’s shoulder. “Don’t needle me about things you don’t understand,” he snarled through sharp gritted teeth. Daichi crossed his arms and shook his head.

“Oh, I think I understand you just fine. You’re a teenager who made a big deal about going to their room and doesn’t want to apologize so they can come down for dinner.” Oikawa’s lip curled, and he jerked his head away to bang pieces of the doorknob back together in no particular order. Daichi watched for a second, then sighed with a heave of his shoulders. “Look,” he began, “I didn’t come here to steal your man or your pack or anything like that.” Oikawa acted like he wasn’t listening, so Daichi continued, “All we came here to do was talk about what to do in October – well, at least, that was the plan.” He watched Oikawa’s profile for a reaction. He was awfully tan for a vampire, his skin slightly bronzed, hair a flippy cinnamon brown. Maybe coloring had nothing to do with their blood status. Maybe Daichi didn’t know shit about vampires that weren’t his. “Issei and Taka told us about what happened, with Toby,” he said, soft and low. Oikawa stiffened, hands stilling. “Plans don’t always work out like we hope, huh.”

Oikawa was silent for a long pause, only the clinking of pewter screws and the distant chatter from downstairs filling the void. Daichi gave him his moment, looking out the window instead at the immaculate grass and even trees, manicured to preserved historical site perfection. If his mom was still around, she would have used up more than a roll of film wandering around this place. It was nice of whoever the old deacon was to let his successor borrow it.

“I’ve been warned about you,” Oikawa muttered, pulling Daichi’s tired mind back to the present. Oikawa spun a screw across the desk like a top, the grooves leaving indents on the pads of his fingers. “Good to know it wasn’t for show.”

“Thanks?” Oikawa rolled his eyes, face twitching with a suppressed smile. Daichi tugged on his ear. “I’m not trying to lord it over you or anything – Lord knows I’ve had my own big fancy plans blow up in my face before. I just…” He ran a hand down his face, tingling a little from exhaustion. He had forgotten to ask if they could actually sleep here, no one had brought any extra clothes – _focus_. “I thought we might have a higher chance of success if we pulled together towards the same finish line.”

Oikawa frowned. “I’m _not_ working with Tobio-chan,” he snapped.

“And I’m not asking you to. Much.” He nodded towards the door. “But if you come downstairs, we can talk it through with everyone so you don’t just get told what to do later.”

Oikawa snorted. “My pack doesn’t _tell_ me what to do.”

“Maybe your old one didn’t.” Oikawa shot him a glare at that, but Daichi didn’t look away. “I know that you and Hajime are still learning things about each other, and that’s fine. You can’t learn everything about a person overnight.” The smoke spiked at him, condensing into that rainbow water from before. “But he feels… not _sad_ , but… mellowed. Like he’s been on a slow stream of sleeping pills.” Oikawa looked away, releasing Daichi from the fog. “And your friendly cook called him your hurricane.”

“Wacchan needs to learn stranger danger,” Oikawa bit out, but it lacked the edge. He rolled the glass of the doorknob along the desk, facet by facet. “He feels sad?” he asked, barely a whisper.

Daichi groaned, adjusting his stance. “It’s hard to put in words, really. Last time we ran into each other he was – all over the place, like… like a gardener who keep yanking up their dead plants every season to replant instead of giving them a chance to come back. Now… he’s trying, I think, to let them grow, but he’s itching to yank it out, so he’s doing whatever he can to fight it off.” He scratched the back of his neck, gripping tight. “It’s not _bad_. It’s just different.”

Oikawa growled. “What are you, our marriage counselor?”

Daichi let his hand fall hard to slap his leg. “It’s just what I’ve noticed, s’all.” Oikawa huffed. Daichi chewed on his lip before explaining, “Hajime thinks he can –- could – never find a pack because of his wolf’s strength, but that’s only part of it. He’s never been able to stop long enough to find out.” He gestured out of the room, at his pack, at the house. “My pack, we’ve tried through the years to give him a place, but soon enough he’ll get itchy and run away. The fact that he’s even _calling_ y’all his pack and his mate and whatnot means a lot more than you know, but he’s been running on his own for a long, long time. Y’all are gonna have to learn how to live with a long leash – both of y’all.”

The knob paused its rolling. “Damn.” Daichi raised his eyebrows. “I _really_ hate you.” Oikawa stuck his tongue out at him as Daichi laughed, releasing more than air. “ _Fine_ ,” Oikawa whined, pushing his chair back from the desk with the clatter of old wheels on hardwood. “Help me put this thing back on the door and I’ll _consider_ joining your little crime party.”

“We’re not planning a jewel heist,” Daichi laughed, sliding some of the smaller bits of hardware off the desk into his palm. “And why do I have you help you clean up _your_ mess?”

“Because we’re _partners_ now, right? Isn’t that what partners do?” Daichi rolled his eyes and flipped him off with his free hand, making Oikawa bark out a laugh before stopping in the middle of the room and holding out his right hand, eyes bright and almost human. When Daichi just stared, Oikawa rolled his whole head on his neck with a long groan. “You _said_ you wanted at least a handshake,” he complained. Daichi recovered and grinned.

“That I did.” They shook on it – Oikawa’s palms were rougher than expected, more handyman than landlord. Oikawa flipped his hair and stalked to the door, kneeling to fit the knob back together in its spot. Daichi held out his handful of parts for picking through as Oikawa pulled out the screwdriver from his Swiss army knife, whining about Daichi’s fashion sense and tone as he worked until Daichi started bantering back, just quiet enough not to draw downstairs attention. When he wasn’t spitting fangs, Oikawa was surprisingly engaging – not really who Daichi would have guessed Hajime would latch onto, but then, very few people understood him and Ryuu, so he would wait to judge.

They were almost done when a door creaked below them. Oikawa bristled and spun on his knees, eyes wide as he stared at the two people walking in like they owned the place. “ _Fu-udge_ ,” he whispered.

“What?” Daichi went to the banister, looking down to the first floor. A middle-aged man who reminded Daichi of his middle school soccer coach was holding the door open for his companion, an older man with a wide smile and thinning white hair. Daichi wasn’t used to seeing him from this angle, but that was _definitely_ the creepy old advice-giver who kept stalking his bar.

“Who the hell…”

“The younger-looking one is the Cardinal of the South, the deacon before me,” Oikawa whispered in his ear. Daichi jumped – he hadn’t _been_ there a second ago. Oikawa’s eyes flashed red, hand tight on Daichi’s shoulder as he stared down at their guests. “And his rival, Cardinal Nekomata of the North.”

“Rival?” Daichi’s barfly grinned at Oikawa’s coach, clapping him on the back. “Seems pretty friendly to me.”

The coach looked right up at them through the shadows. “Well?” he called. “You planning on leaving us in the foyer all night?”

“ _Holy shit, is that Terry?_ ” Takahiro’s voice yelled from the parlor.

Daichi and Oikawa shared a look. “Ready to plot?” Daichi asked.

Oikawa grinned, all teeth and intent. “Let’s see if you can keep up, fluffy.” He stuck his tongue out and was gone, leaving only an afterimage behind. Daichi blinked – down at the first floor, where Oikawa was bowing to his elders and taking their coats as a few heads poked out of the parlor to greet the new arrivals.

Daichi shook his head and headed to the stairs. “Vampires.”


End file.
